


No Really, This Is Fine

by qilathe



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Asexuality, Blood, I'm so sorry, M/M, also, i have no idea what is happening in this fic, look guys I went from 0 to 6000 in this fandom in record time, so it'll probably be wrong in like 4 days, so sorry about that too, which is much like how i feel about this show, written before episode 4 aired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 22:37:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8508199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qilathe/pseuds/qilathe
Summary: Everything really would have been fine if the government hadn't taken Todd. But they did take Todd, so now everything is going to hell.





	

Dirk stumbled back up the stairs to Todd's apartment. He let's himself in and sags back against the door.

“Are you alright?” Farah asks him. “You look like you've seen a ghost.”

“Am I...?” Dirk clears his throat. “Er, yes. I am totally fine. Just thinking. Sorry.” He crosses the room and sits the couch, pulling out his phone and scrolling through it absently, while the others continue to chat in the kitchen in slightly hushed voices.

Hands come down onto Dirk's shoulder's and he jumps, ready to run, but then Todd says softly, “Hey,” and he sags back against the couch and into Todd's hands.

Dirk looks up at Todd, whose face is furrowed into a look of concern. “Hi!” he responds, putting as much pep and cheer into it as he can. Todd's face doesn't smooth out, so he must not do a very good job of it, but before he can try again, Todd's thumb finds a knot in his neck and presses, and Dirk very nearly goes limp, humming contentedly under his breath.

After a moment, Todd asks quietly, “Are you alright?” He waits patiently for a response, loosening other knots in Dirk's shoulders as he does.

“Yes. No. Well. It's complicated, and I... I can't talk about it,” Dirk tells him seriously.

“Okay. That's okay.” Todd pauses his kneading of Dirk's shoulders to run the thumb of his right hand gently under Dirk's ear and along his jaw, where the flesh is most sensitive, his fingers resting just barely across Dirk's throat.

Dirk shivers involuntarily, both at the sensation and at the cold feeling it sends down his spine at the implication of the gesture. “Please don't,” Dirk says, sounding more pleading than he means to. “Todd, I'm not—”

“Okay,” Todd agrees easily, taking his hands back to himself, and stepping away from the back of the couch. After a moment, Dirk realizes that Todd has headed back to the kitchen. When Dirk looks over, he sees Farah looking back at him, muttering something to Todd. Whatever it is, Todd shakes his head in response. He steps around her to rummage around in a drawer in his kitchen for a moment before pulling out a cigarette. “I'm going out to have a smoke,” he announces, before heading across the apartment and out the door.

Amanda starts to head after him, but Farah stops her and shakes her head. Dirk slumps to his side, laying down on the ruined couch and closing his eyes.

He's jerks awake some time later to someone tapping his shoulder. He blinks, and finds himself face-to-face with Amanda. “What?” he asks, sitting up. “What is it?” He glances around the apartment and realizes he probably hasn't been asleep for more than a few minutes.

Amanda bites her lip, and for a moment, seems to have changed her mind about saying anything, but then she says flatly, “You don't like my brother.” It's not a question, but it sounds like it wants to be.

“I don't...? Yes, I do. He's my best friend-slash-assistant.”

Amanda rolls her eyes. “I meant in a gay way.”

Dirk glances over towards the kitchen, but Farah is nowhere to be seen. He sighs. “I mean, not really in a gay way. I don't really like anyone like that.”

“So, you like Farah?” Amanda definitely inflects that like a question.

“What?” Dirk asks. “No. I mean. No. I just said I don't like anyone like that.”

“Ooooh.” Amanda smiles at him. “You mean like at all. You don't like-like people. Fair enough.” She gets up and walks back towards the kitchen as the coffee machine beeps. Dirk wonders when and how Todd got a new coffee machine.

“I didn't—that's not what I said either,” Dirk mutters, loud enough that Amanda should hear him, but she seems to ignore him. “Where are they?” he asks, a little louder, as Amanda pours herself a cup of coffee.

Amanda points to the destroyed bed, and Dirk notices Farah there, fast asleep. When he glances back quizzically at Amanda, opening his mouth to ask about Todd, she beats him to it. “Todd hasn't come back from his smoke yet. He probably went for a walk. He doesn't do well with mixed signals.”

“Mixed signals?” Dirk demands, a little offended at the implication, despite the fact that he's pretty sure Amanda is right about that.

Amanda rolls her eyes at him, but doesn't dignify it with a response. “I'm gonna see if I can't scrounge up enough blankets for everyone to have a place to sleep.”

“My place is just down the hall, you could sleep there. The couch and bed aren't torn up like Todd's,” Dirk offers.

“I don't think we should—” Amanda starts, but Farah interrupts her, shocking both of them.

“Yes, please, thank you,” Farah agrees, getting off the bed. She pauses at the door to the apartment for Amanda. “Come on, we can take both the good places to sleep before Dirk gathers his wits or Todd comes back.”

Amanda chuckles and follows Farah. Just as the door is closing behind them, Dirk calls out, “Hey, wait a minute!” But he doesn't get up to follow them. He smiles to himself and flops back onto the couch, closing his eyes and slipping right back to sleep.

–

Dirk wakes up a few hours later with a sudden and deep feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. He scrambles to get off the couch and turn on a light, looking around Todd's apartment, but he's the only one there. He checks his phone to see the time (3 am), and knows that Todd must have come back by now. The feeling of dread escalates into an acute feeling of panic and he runs through the halls to his own apartment and throws the door open, turning on the lights.

The action is followed by Farah groaning and throwing a pillow at him from the couch. Dirk ignores her. “Is Todd here?”

Amanda peaks out from the bedroom. “No, we thought he was with you. You know, in his apartment.”

“No,” Dirk says, and he can hear the blood pounding in his ears. “No, he didn't come back. And I have an intuition that—” Dirk is interrupted by his phone going off. He fumbles pulling it out of his pocket, accidentally throwing it across the living room. It falls on the floor, the back popping off and the battery falling out. “Shit. Shit shit shit.” Dirk lunges for the phone and starts desperately snapping it back together before turning it on. “Come on, come on, come on.” he mutters desperately.

Dirk is at the end of the couch, sitting on the floor, and trying to push back tears and panic and to hold it together, but he has an idea of what's happened, and it's not good. Farah watches him over the arm of the couch, and Amanda crosses the room to crouch beside him. She places a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, I'm sure he's fine,” Amanda tells him soothingly. “And if he isn't, panicking isn't going to do much for him.”

“Well it can't hurt,” Dirk snaps back as the phone comes to life. He immediately opens it to see his most recent text.

His phone doesn't recognize the number, but Dirk knows who it's from immediately. I tried to bring you in the easy way, Svlad. We have Todd Brotzman. Come in for a debrief.

Dirk's hands are shaking, the world going a little blurry on the edges through his tears. He rubs at his eyes as his phone dings again, this time with a time and place to meet them. He takes a deep breath to collect himself, then stands and spins on his heels to face the door in one movement. He claps his hands together to force confidence in his bearing. “Okay. So. Some bad people took Todd. But not the worst people. And we can get him back. I have a plan.”

Amanda and Farah stand to join Dirk's eye-level, but he doesn't make eye contact with either of them.

“Okay, what's the plan,” Farah asks skeptically.

“Well, first we meet them at the proscribed time and place,” Dirk says confidently.

“And then?” Farah says, sounding even more unconvinced.

“Then we steal Todd back and run away. Just let me do the talking,” Dirk tells them breezily.

“What are they going to do to Todd if we can't get him back or don't go?” Amanda is clearly terrified for her brother.

“Well, we are going, and if we have trouble stealing him back, we'll just have to fall back on plan B.” Dirk forces cheer into his voice, trying to be soothing. It must come off as flippant, because Amanda punches him, hard enough to throw him off balance. Dirk stumbles, a hand automatically going to his injured jaw as he does. “Ow!” he whines. “What was that for?”

“I swear to god, if anything happens to my brother because of you...” Amanda threatens.

“I promise you, absolutely guaruntee you, that I will not let anything happen to him,” Dirk tells her seriously, his eyes locking with hers. After a moment, Amanda nods and looks away.

“Okay,” Farah says. “So what time and place, and what is plan B?”

–

“Stay in the car,” Dirk instructs Farah and Amanda as he gets out on the bridge. It's the same bridge they exchanged the dog on—or, well, that they got Farah and lost the dog on, anyways. Farah nods from the driver's seat. Amanda unbuckles her seatbelt and gets out of the car. “I said stay in the car.”

“You did. I heard you say it, even,” Amanda agrees evenly.

Dirk starts walking to the car on the other side of the bridge. “Seriously, you should stay in the car. If... if you have a flare up, I can't carry both of you back to the car.”

Amanda rolls her eyes. “He's my brother,” she tells him firmly.

“I know he is, but—” The doors of the other car slam open and shut, diverting both of their attention towards them. They stop halfway across the bridge. “Just let me do the talking,” Dirk insists.

“Svlad,” Col. Riggins says, pulling Todd out of the back seat. Dirk's heart starts to pound as soon as he hears Riggins' voice, and his eyes follow Todd as he's pushed towards the front of the car, stumbling and glassy-eyed.

“That's not my—what did you do to him?”

The younger man, holding a gun, glances at Riggins, who shakes his head. “We just sedated him, nothing permanent,” Riggins tells him. He suddenly grabs Todd hard on the shoulder and pulls him back, almost knocking him over. “Just come here, and we'll let him go.”

Dirk feels panic flare up in his chest, cold and painful. A terrible part of him wants to run now, leave Todd behind, but he knows he can't do that, even if Amanda wasn't standing right next to him. He takes a deep breath and tries his best to ignore the way his eyes sting. “How do I know you'll really let him go?”

Riggins raises an eyebrow at him plaintively, but Dirk doesn't budge. He motions for the other soldier. “Friedkin.”

“Yes, sir,” Friedkin says diligently, but he doesn't move over.

“Come here,” Riggins says, a combination of resignation and frustration. Friedkin complies, and Riggins all but thrusts Todd into his hands. “Walk him over there. As soon as Icarus is over here, leave him with the girl. If he runs, should them both.”

“I don't think he could run right now, sir, even if he wanted to,” Friedkin says doubtfully.

“Not Brotzman. Icarus.”

“Oh.” Friedkin pauses. “I mean, yes sir.” He takes Todd from Riggins and starts to slowly cross the space between them.

Dirk takes another deep breath, looking for a moment out over the edge of the bridge.

“There never was a plan, was there,” Amanda asks quietly.

“There was a plan—is a plan,” Dirk responds firmly, voice a little gruff.

“I meant,” Amanda clarifies, “that the plan was always just to do what they wanted.”

“Nothing else would have worked,” Dirk agrees. He looks at Amanda. “Just take him back to the car. I'll be fine.”

Amanda reaches out and brushes a tear off his cheek. “No you won't.”

“No,” he whispers. “No, I won't. But you three can figure the rest of this out.”

Amanda nods. She opens her mouth to stay something, but before she can, Riggins calls out, “Svlad!”

“That's not my name anymore!” Dirk shouts back, voice much stronger than it had been before, as he starts across the bridge. Riggins rolls his eyes.

A cold breeze blows past them, and Dirk glances back to Amanda, who shivers and crosses her arms a little tighter, but seems fine.

Then Todd screams. Dirk's head snaps around right as he stumbles and falls, Friedkin looking confused as he drops him to the ground. Dirk books it across the bridge, Amanda right on his heels.

He drops to his knees as he reaches Todd, pulling Todd against his torso.

Todd's hands immediately go around Dirk under his jacket. They're cold against Dirk's spine. As Dirk rubs Todd's back, Todd puts his face into the crook of Dirk's neck, half under the collar of his jacket.

“Are you okay?” Dirk says, his voice shaking. “What did-what did they do to you?”

“He's having an episode,” Amanda says from over Dirk's shoulder. “I thought you got better.”

Todd groans in response before forcing out, “Mostly better,” through chattering teeth. “I'll—I'll be alright. This is fine.”

Amanda makes a skeptical hum, but when she glances at Friedkin, he's fidgeting nervously with his gun. She nudges Dirk with her foot. “Come on, get up.”

Dirk shifts his weight, and then pulls both himself and Todd into a standing position. “W-What's the p-plan?” Todd stutters, still shivering with imagined cold.

Dirk ignores the question, carefully passing Todd to Amanda. “Take him to the car and have Farah drive away.”

Amanda nods.

“W-what's the plan?” Todd repeats, a little louder, a little more desperate.

Dirk shoves his hands in the pockets of his jacket and continues towards Riggins. Behind him, he hears Amanda tell Todd, “Don't worry about the plan, Dirk's got it covered, let's just get you to the car.”

Dirk gets another sudden feeling of dread as he reaches the other car, Friedkin right behind him, almost-but-not-quite touching him to lead him there. He attributes it to the cold panic still in the pit of his stomach.

Friedkin crosses to the other side of the car as Dirk gets in arms-reach of Riggins. “I'm glad you decided not to try anything,” he says gently. “No one needs to get hurt.”

“No one else, you mean,” Dirk responds bitterly.

“They said something about a plan, sir,” Friedkin informs Riggins dutifully, at the same time.

Riggins shakes his head. “There's no plan. He was always too soft to risk anyone he cared about.”

Dirk bristles, but at that moment, a motor cycle with a sidecar pulls up behind Riggins. The feeling of dread in the pit of Dirk's stomach skyrockets. He stumbles backwards automatically, while the too soldiers spin to look at them.

A wild-looking girl crawls out of the sidecar and shouts, “You're a dead man, Dirk Gently!”

Dirk stumbles as he turns to run, tripping and falling forward onto his hands and knees. He hisses through his teeth, certain he's bleeding but knowing that he doesn't have the time to worry about that. He scrambles to his feet, seeing Amanda and Todd just barely reaching the car. “Get in the car!” he shouts as he runs towards them.

He hears gunshots behind him, but he doesn't look back. Farah starts the car just as Amanda shoves Todd into the back. Amanda slams the door behind them, and Farah makes a sharp turn just as Dirk reaches the car, stopping just long enough for Dirk to hop in the front. “Gogogogogo,” he says, the door closing behind him at the force with which Farah takes off. Dirk slides down in the passenger seat until his forehead is level with the dashboard, eyes squeezed shut.

Gunshots keep going off in the background. One shot zooms through the back window and then out the front window, but Farah just keeps driving at full speed, as if nothing had happened.

“Is everyone okay?” she demands a few moments later, when they can no longer hear gunshots.

“We're okay,” Amanda says, her voice sounding panicked. “We're okay.”

“Dirk?” Todd asks sharply, after a pause.

“What, me?” Dirk says. He opens his eyes. His knees are bleeding through his jeans. His palms are red with blood from being scraped up. His left wrist throbs and is looking bruised and almost concerningly swollen. “I'm fine,” he says. He closes his eyes again, adjusting so that he's in the seat a little better. “I'm fine.”

There's a moment of calm, and then Farah says, “Oh my god, Dirk, you were shot!”

Dirk's eyes fly open again. “I was—what, where?” He looks back down at himself, and only then notices the blood seeping into his shirt from just above his left hip. As soon as he sees it, the pain hits him, hard. “Oh fuck,” he gasps. He automatically reaches to press his right hand over it, but the pressure hurts so he pulls his hand away. “Fuck,” he repeats nonsensically.

“Hospital,” Farah is saying to herself under her breath, “we need to go to the hospital.”

“We can't go to the hospital, they'll look there for sure,” Dirk tells her seriously, panting through the pain. She makes a sharp left turn and he groans as his hip hits the side of his chair painfully.

“You are going to die if we don't!” Farah shouts at him.

“No, he's right,” Amanda says. “If we go to a hospital, they'll kill him anyways.

“I'll be fine,” Dirk decides. “This is fine. I'll be fine.”

“Who were those people?” Todd demands suddenly, sounding like he's shaken the last of the sedative. “What did they want with you? Who was shooting at us?”

“Long story. Not sure. No idea,” Dirk answers curtly. “Ow ow ow ow ow!” he adds loudly as Farah pushes hard on his bullet wound.

“Either you put pressure on it or I have to!” Farah snaps at him.

“No, stop,” Dirk complains, a little nonsensically. “Stop it, I'll be fine.”

“You're not fine! You're bleeding all over your car!” Farah presses harder on the wound, causing Dirk to make a high whining sound.

“It's not my car,” Dirk tells her.

“What? Who's car is it?” she snaps.

“Long story.”

“What the hell is going on?” Todd demands.

Amanda smacks him in the shoulder. “Why the hell were you having an episode? I thought you got better!”

“I'll explain later,” Todd says dismissively. “Were you just going to go with them? How do you know them?”

“I—” Dirk starts.

“No, tell me now,” Amanda hisses. “Have you just been pretending to give me false hope this whole time?”

“What?” Todd asks, taken aback. “No, I wouldn't do that.”

Farah pulls her hand off Dirk's hip to make a sharp turn, and then starts driving even faster. “Shit, how did they catch up to us so quick?”

“Who caught up with us?” Amanda asks, turning to look behind them. “Oh shit,” she breathes when she sees them. “Drive faster.”

“Yes, I'll get right on that,” Farah growls back.

Dirk looks down at his waist to look at the wound, and sees how much blood has pooled in the car seat. “That's—” He swallows hard. “That's a—a lot of blood.”

“Put pressure on it,” Farah instructs him firmly.

“I gonna die,” Dirk whimpers, tears forming starting to run down his face. “I don't wanna die”

“Put pressure on it!”

“I've got it,” Amanda says, leaning into the front seat and pushing a hand hard into Dirk's wound, causing the Brit to make a noise somewhere between a groan and a scream. “Jesus, how did you get so cut up?”

“He tripped when he started running this way,” Farah tells her. “Okay, I think we lost them again.” She sighs. “If we aren't going to a hospital, then I'm going to need to make a call.” She reaches into her pocket for her phone and tosses it behind her to Todd. “Call Harrison.”

“Okay,” Todd agrees easily, but he sounds really nervous, for some reason. Suddenly, Dirk doesn't know why. He slumps back into his seat and closes his eyes again.

“Dirk,” Amanda says, shaking his shoulders with her other hand. “Dirk, come one. Stay awake. Talk to me.”

“It's...” he mumbles. “It's fine. I'm just... I'm just gonna take a little nap.”

“Dirk!” Amanda shouts, but he's already under.

–

“I've done what I can,” Dirk hears an unfamiliar voice say. It sounds like it's from far away, and he feels really groggy, like it's hard to wake up. “He needs a blood transfusion, though. You should take him to a hospital.”

“The people who shot him will definitely find us in a hospital,” another voice responds. Dirk thinks faintly that it might be Farah's.

“Who was it? The mob?”

“I'm not sure who it was, but I don't think it was the mob.”

Dirk opens his eyes, blinking to clear his vision, and starts to struggle into a seated position. A hand on his shoulder stops him, keeping him laying down. He looks over to see Amanda. “You need to lay down,” she tells him. “If you sit up you might pass out. You lost a lot of blood.”

“How did I...? What happened?” Dirk asks. He shifts slightly, and suddenly he's in agony from the waist down, and he groans.

Quick footsteps, and then the voice from before, now much closer, says, “He's awake already?”

Dirk feels his heart start to pound, cold panic seeping through him. “What happened? Where am I?” He pushes Amanda's hand away and sits up, despite the pain. It makes his head spin unpleasantly. “What's going on.”

“Calm down,” Amanda tells him. “You're going to hurt yourself.”

“I'll get more sedatives,” the unfamiliar voice says. It belongs to a man Dirk doesn't recognize, who turns to go through a drawer next to him.

“No. Nonononono. Don't you dare!” Dirk snaps. He feels like he's been hit by a truck, but there's no way. No way. They can't take him back in. They can't.

“Dirk!” someone says loudly from the doorway. Dirk turns and he's looking at Todd. Before he can say anything, Todd is pressing him back down. “It's okay,” Todd tells him softly. “It's okay.” He brushes hair off Dirk's forehead. “You're safe. Relax.”

The fight goes out of Dirk immediately, and he sinks into the soft mattress underneath him. “It hurts a lot,” he tells Todd quietly.

“Yeah, I know,” Todd responds, just as quiet. “Go back to sleep, okay?”

“Yeah,” Dirk agrees, nodding and closing his eyes. “Yeah, okay.” He's unconscious before the doctor even finds the sedative.

The doctor furrows his brows, closing the drawer without pulling anything out. “That was impressive.”

“Todd has that effect on people,” Amanda tells him.

Todd shakes his head, pulling away from Dirk. “Only sometimes.”

“I'm mostly impressed that you two aren't shouting at each other,” Farah observes coolly. “And that you didn't shout at Dirk.”

Todd glares at her. “I can wait until he's better off.”

“Will you watch Dirk for a while?” Amanda asks Farah with a charming smile. “I actually am going to shout at my brother some more, but I figured we should go outside to do it.”

Farah rolls her eyes, but she's smiling a little. “Of course. Go ahead.”

As the two leave, the doctor observes, “You're new friends are really weird.”

Farah sighs, taking Dirk's less injured hand in her own. “You are not wrong, Harrison. But they're helping me get Lydia back.”

Harrison shrugs and nods simultaneously, mostly in agreement, before stepping out of the room as well.

“You're going to be okay,” Farah tells Dirk seriously, even though he's asleep. “You're going to be okay, because we still need to yell at you about this, and that's easier if you aren't dead.”

–

“Shit, we lost them,” Bart says, a few minutes after their out of sight.

“You shot him, right?” Ken asks. “We could search hospitals.”

“They won't go to a hospital,” Bart tells him.

“How do you—oh, right.” Ken pauses to think. “Who were those guys you killed? You seemed to know them.”

Bart growls. “I didn't recognize the younger one, but Riggins... he's not a good guy. He...” She growls again. “He deserved to die.”

“Okay,” Ken agrees, a little scared. “Uh, so where do we go now.”

Bart shrugs. “I think we should find a motel. Sign says there's one at the next exit.”

“Okay.” After a moment he adds, “Just try not to kill anyone.”

Bart glances over to grin at him. “If I kill anyone, it'll be because they deserve it.” Then she frowns, her face pinching.

“What is it?” Ken asks.

“I'm not sure,” Bart says. “But I just... don't feel like we need to keep going after Dirk.”

“Did he—is he dead?” Ken stammers.

“No,” Bart tells him. She pauses, still frowning. “Maybe he didn't need to die. Maybe he just needed to get shot.”

“Oh. Has that ever happened before?”

“No.”

–

Dirk wakes up slowly this time, feeling less disoriented than last time. He feels a thumb running over the back of his hand and fingers carding through his hair. He opens his eyes and sees Todd leaning over him. “Todd,” he says softly. “Todd, I'm not—”

“I know.” Todd pulls away, his hands going into this lap, leaving Dirk feeling cold. “I'm sorry. I was just...” He lets the sentence trail off.

Dirk shivers, frowning at Todd. “That's not what I meant.”

Todd narrows his eyes at him, then stands up and walks off. Dirk shivers again, feeling abandoned. But Todd reappears a moment later with a thick afghan and spreads it over Dirk gently. He brushes Dirk's hair into place, then sits back down, his hands in his lap. “What did you mean, then?” he asks, keeping his voice quiet. Dirk thinks maybe the others are sleeping.

“I... I just mean that I... don't... you know. Like that,” Dirk mumbles.

Todd raises an eyebrow at him, clearly not following. “That's okay,” he agrees anyways. “Can I do anything for you? Get you anything? Are you in a lot of pain?”

Yes, Dirk thinks. It's unbearable. “I'm alright,” he tells Todd. “Maybe some water.”

“Okay. I'll be right back.” Todd leaves the room again, leaving Dirk alone again.

Dirk presses his head back into the pillow under him even harder and shuts his eyes. He feels tears of pain moistening them, but he tries to push that down. He allows himself one quiet, high-pitched whine before opening his eyes again.

Todd is standing in the doorway, frowning and holding a glass of water. “I can have Harrison get you some pain meds,” he offers.

“No,” Dirk says forcefully. “I don't know him.”

Todd rolls his eyes, but he crosses to sit back down by Dirk. “Okay. He's a friend of Farah's, though, I think he's okay.” He places the glass on a table next to him, then hesitates a second. “Are you okay for me to sit you up so you can drink?”

“I can do it,” Dirk insists, but gasps as soon as he tries.

“Hey, stop doing that. You're going to reopen your stitches,” Todd admonishes him gently. He slips an arm under Dirk, his forearm along Dirk's spine, and carefully leverages him to about a thirty degree angle. Then he takes the glass from the table and holds it out to Dirk, who takes it and drinks from it greedily, suddenly very thirsty.

“Thank you,” Dirk say, maybe meaning it more than he's meant anything he's ever said.

Todd chuckles, slowly lower Dirk back onto his back as he takes the empty glass and puts it back on the table. “Yeah, no problem.”

They sit in silence for a moment. Then Dirk bites his bottom lip nervously, considering. “Todd, I—I like you. You know, like a lot. But I don't—I'm not—I just, you know. I'm not like most people. I don't...” he trails off, not sure how to explain it.

“Not like most people? I never noticed.” Todd says jokingly. The smile turns to a thoughtful expression, and he looks away, at the wall on the other side of Dirk. After a long pause, he asks, “You mean that you don't like sex?”

“No,” Dirk hedges. “Not exactly. I enjoy sex. Sex is great. I just. I don't know. I don't ever really want it. I mean, sometimes, I can be persuaded. But not, like.” He furrows his brows. “I can't explain it.”

Todd turns towards him and raises an eyebrow. “You enjoy sex, but you never really desire it,” Todd suggests.

“Yes, that exactly.” Dirk frowns at him. “Sorry,” he adds after a moment.

“No. I mean, no,” Todd responds. “I don't really... me neither, I guess.”

“Oh,” Dirk says. “That's. That's good. Or rather, not good but—”

“It's fine,” Todd says.

Dirk shifts his weight and winces, eyes watering in pain.

“Please let me have Harrison get you something,” Todd begs. “I can stay here the whole time.”

“No,” Dirk says softly. “I don't... I don't like narcotics. They make me feel all tingly and weird.”

Todd sighs. “I'm sure he can get you something that won't.”

“Todd,” Dirk pleads, a little desperately.

Todd puts his hands up in defeat. “Alright, alright. I'll drop it.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes.

“There wasn't a plan was there?” Todd asks suddenly.

“What?”

“I mean, those men. You knew them. They knew you. I heard them call you Project Icarus, like you were a science experiment and not a person,” Todd says. “You never had a plan to get away. You were going to go with them. To protect me.”

“Todd,” Dirk says seriously. “If you'd stayed with them they would have... they would have realized you were like me. That you... You know things sometimes, things you couldn't know. Like when you saw the face on the dog.” Dirk sighs and closes his eyes. “I was like that. And they... Well, it doesn't matter. But they would have done it to you, too, if they'd realized. I couldn't—I couldn't let them do that to anyone else. Least of all you. You're my best friend. You said I was a real detective, and Riggins never...”

“Hey,” Todd says brushing a tear off Dirk's cheek. “It's alright. We're all safe. Thank you.”

“I couldn't have risked them taking you,” Dirk tells him seriously.

“Thank you,” Todd repeats. “Why don't you go back to sleep? I'll be right here. Or Amanda or Farah will.”

“Yeah,” Dirk agrees, already slipping back under. “Yeah, alright.”

–

“Okay, so where do we go now?” Ken asks Bart the next morning as they leave the motel.

Bart shrugs. “We go wherever I feel like going, and then we kill whoever I feel like needs killed.”

“But we aren't looking for Dirk Gently anymore?” Ken asks.

“No,” she agrees. “But we are looking for someone else.”

“Who?” Ken asks.

“The Supreme Soul.”

“Who's that?”

Bart shrugs.

“How are we going to find them?”

“We just will. That's how these things work.”

“Right. How do you know that we're looking for the Supreme Soul.”

Bart shrugs again. “I dunno. It just came to me.”

Ken nods thoughtfully. “Alright. Can we get something to eat first?”

Bart grins at him. “Sure. I think I know just the place.”

–

It only takes a few days for Dirk to be too restless to stay in bed anymore, despite Harrison's orders or the pain that he's in.

“I think we need to go back to the Spring estate,” he announces.

Farah raises an eyebrow at him. “Why is that?”

“I don't know,” Dirk says confidently. “But I just have a feeling that we need to go there.”

Amanda shrugs. “Alright. Maybe we can find more clues.”

“Great!” Dirk grins at them. “Let's get going then.”

Todd gives Dirk a look. “Let's finish breakfast first.”

Dirk sighs, sitting back down next to Todd. “Fine.” He bumps Todd's shoulder with his own, smiling at him affectionately. “But then we can go to the estate after?”

“Yeah,” Todd agrees. “Absolutely.”

“Hey, Dirk,” Farah asks suddenly. “Wasn't there a kitten in your apartment?”

Dirk's eyes go comically wide. “Oh shit.”


End file.
